


without you

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cars, Compartmentalization, F/M, Fate, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Lola as a metaphor for Daisy and Coulson's relationship, Male-Female Friendship, Parallels, Similitude, mentions of lola
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 11:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8160020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: Post 4x2.  Daisy and Coulson have conversations with other people and can't escape the ties that bind them.  Basically a long drabble.





	

##

  
She watches the way Robbie is around his car, and it unsettles her.

Trying to escape the memory isn't working today.

Maybe it was seeing Mack again.

"Do you let anyone drive her?"

"It's a him," Robbie answers, shutting the hood. "And, no."

SHIELD isn't her home. It was never her home, she just got complacent.

"You know _I_ got something to lose," he starts in, as he wipes at his hands. "What about you?"

Her eyes flicker up to him and she leans against the workbench in the garage, arms crossed.

"I've lost everything."

"Those people, they were looking for you. You sure you lost everything?"

"Bad things happen to people who get close to me," she says bluntly.

"And you think it's your fault," he chuckles, putting away his wrench. "See, I told you we're alike."

"I'm cursed," she says, frowning at his reaction. "I'm not kidding."

"By who?" Robbie asks, shrugging at her. "I know who cursed me."

"You keep saying that," she says, following after him towards the front entrance of the garage. "But how do you know?"

"Who do you think cursed you?" he asks, not wanting to talk about himself anymore today, turning back around on her.

"I dunno," she stops, blinking back at him. "Fate."

"You're not cursed, and it's not Fate."

He opens the door for her and leans against the gate, dangling her keys.

"I fixed your van. You should stop hiding."

She swipes the keys out of his hand. "Thanks for the advice, flames for brains."

"Staying away doesn't protect them," he calls after her. "It just makes you forget."

"I'll-" she starts to reply, and then fidgets with the keys. "I'll be in touch."

"It's worth holding onto.  You know I'm right."

He turns his back to her, and goes to lock up the gate behind him.

  


  
##

  
"How is she?"

It's the brief moment in between events, while they wait in the dark.

"She...," she starts, then gives up and shrugs. "Daisy, you know?"

He tries not to be too disappointed at the answer. It makes sense she doesn't want to share, really.

"Thank you," he tells her, instead, frowning slightly. "For getting her those meds."

YoYo can't help but smile at that, like it's a pleasant surprise, and moves around a little, like she's getting antsy. Tired of waiting.

"She just wants to protect people," she adds.

"I know why she's doing this," he tells her, setting his hands against his knees from his spot on the crate.

"People she cares about. Too," she adds, twisting over her shoulder to look back at him, lit only by the emergency light.

He doesn't know what to say to that. If it's only her impression, or something more. But he doesn't dare ask.

"I don't imagine you think a lot about what it feels like when things move too slow?"

"I think about it all the time," she replies, curious and walks closer towards him. He guesses the eye roll was about Mack, but then she says, "Sometimes...it frightens me."

"Why?" he asks, curious himself.

"All the little moments, that none of you notice. The looks and the smiles. Tiny motions. And you never even stopped to see them.  What then, is someone who moves too fast?"

"To someone who moves too slow?" he huffs, thinking about the arguments she had with Mack.

"Turtle speed, yes," she says, interrupting his thoughts. "But you all want to be the rabbit," she says, sitting down beside him. "Sometimes, I wish I was the turtle. I think I would appreciate it. Now."

"My head isn't much in the moment," he admits.

"Because you want to see her again, I know. Off in the distance, somewhere," she motions, waving a hand out in front of them.

"Does she live in the moment?"

Her hand draws back, and she turns to look at him, knowing what he's asking.

"Yes. Very much so."

  


  
##

  
"Phil, are you okay?"

He blinks a few times, and he's breathing, he thinks. Mostly, dust, and that metallic taste. But, at least that's still happening.

His eyes are on her hand, though, touching his arm, wrapped carefully around it, so she can put her body between him and the sounds of gunfire, her other hand extended outward.

And she called him "Phil".

"You're not going to make me carry you out of here, are you?"

"No," he rasps, realizing that the wind is just knocked out of him, the blast had slammed him up against the wall.

Nothing feels too broken, but then, he's not moving too quickly, and his ears are ringing.

She gives him an exasperated sigh and wraps his arm around behind her shoulders, as she starts to stand, lifting him along with her.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," he says, gruffly, disentangling himself and then finding himself stumbling against her again as he gets his bearings.

"I asked if you could walk," she groans, bearing his weight and putting her hand around his arm again to steady them. "Not if you could be incredibly stubborn."

"Both," he says, moving along down the corridor with her, trying to match her rhythm. "At the same time. I'm multi-tasking."

Things haven't been so smooth between them lately, but he's not about to make a fool out of himself just because she called him Phil.

"Did you call me Phil back there?" he asks a moment later, as she sends a shockwave to collapse part of the wall to give them cover.

"So what if I did?" she says, looking ahead.

"I guess so much for compartmentalization," he snickers, watching her turn her head to him briefly to give him a sharp look.

"You must have hit your head pretty hard," she replies, as her eyes search his face, and then she blasts the door open off it's hinges and they see the bright daylight in front of them.

"Just admit it," he says, trying to focus, because the light hurts. Watching the field team turn blurry as they round up the rest of the Watchdogs. "You can't live without me."

"Phil!" she reaches for him again, as he stumbles and ends up on the ground, as she props his head up.

"I tried. And look where it got me."

He tries, and opens his eyes, to see her hovering over him, as her face comes into focus. Fingers against his hair, smoothing it back from his forehead.

"It's just a moment. And then it will be gone."

"What are you talking about?" she asks, as he feels himself being lifted up by other hands to be carted away.

"Only, I saw it this time."

  


  
##

  
"What's this?" she asks, leaning forward to look at the familiar set of keys at her feet.

She picks them up from where they landed on her bunk, and scoots her legs over the edge.

He's standing and leaning against the entrance, easygoing, but something purposeful in it. She can tell.

"I thought we could go for a drive," he mentions.

She can feel the hum of the Zephyr's engines, and frowns a little.

"We don't land for a few hours," she starts, glancing up at him, to find him holding out a hand to her.

Cocking her head first, she plants her hand in his, and lets him pull her to her feet.

"Mack fixed her," he tells her, nodding. "The thrusters are working now."

"Oh," she teases, running her thumb across his fingers where their hands are still joined. "That brings back memories."

"I thought that...maybe we could make new ones," he says, his eyes brightening like he's thinking about something else at the same time. "We'll be over Paris in about ten minutes."

This is sudden, perhaps. But not unexpected. Not exactly.

"I'm not even dressed for... _anything_ ," she says, staring down at her sweatpants and t-shirt.

"I can just wait outside," he tells her, motioning to the door, turning away.

She stops him, holding onto his hand, just as he was about to let go, and he pauses.

"What comes _after_ Paris?" she asks, watching his eyebrows climb up towards his hairline.

"The Atlantic," he replies, like he's not sure if it's a trick question. "Ocean?"

"Right," she says, letting go and turning away, a bit embarrassed at herself. "Guess I should find something to wear quick, then."

"Daisy," he stops her, quietly, with a hand to her shoulder, and she turns back to him, already determined to fall into his arms.

She kisses him first, achingly slow and he makes a pleading noise, in the back of his throat. It sounds like longing, the end to waiting, and then he kisses her back.

When his hands slip around her waist, to pull her closer to him, she stops them, thinking about his plans, what he must have wanted this to be.

"Take as much time as you need," he whispers to her, smiling against her lips. "Paris isn't going anywhere."

"I'm not either," she tells him, all serious for a moment, as his eyes go soft, then presses her lips to his again, once, twice.

"Does this mean I get to fly Lola?"

That gets a laugh out of him.

  
##

  
(She gets to fly Lola.)


End file.
